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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29643060">ice between the shoulder blades</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/emkathmah/pseuds/emkathmah'>emkathmah</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Frostbite, Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Relationship, and there was only one ice moon, kallus is an anxious mess, zeb is actually good at reading people</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 20:33:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,992</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29643060</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/emkathmah/pseuds/emkathmah</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Kallus is hurt. He’s been hurt before, stars know exactly how much he’s been through, but it’s been a long time since he was hurt like this.</p><p>He only realizes how bad it is when he tries to snarl angrily down the wrong end of a bo-rifle and all that comes out of him is a cry of pain. It takes him a moment to process the sound that left his mouth, and when he does he feels his face start to burn with humiliation and outrage. Just as quickly, the blood drains from his face as he realizes exactly the position he’s in.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alexsandr Kallus &amp; Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>ice between the shoulder blades</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>title from mary oliver's When Death Comes</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kallus is hurt. He’s been hurt before, stars know exactly how much he’s been through, but it’s been a long time since he was hurt like this.</p><p>He only realizes how bad it is when he tries to snarl angrily down the wrong end of a bo-rifle and all that comes out of him is a cry of pain. It takes him a moment to process the sound that left his mouth, and when he does he feels his face start to burn with humiliation and outrage. Just as quickly, the blood drains from his face as he realizes exactly the position he’s in.</p><p>Kallus is scared. The last time he was this helpless, hurt, immobile, facing down an angry Lasat, he’d lost the closest thing to friends he’d ever had. He’d nearly lost his life. The parallels from his past paired with the current situation leave him nothing short of terrified.         </p><p>He can feel the dread building up inside him, quickly snowballing in the back of his mind before rolling to strike between his shoulder blades like an axe made of ice. The burning cold sensation quickly spreads through his chest, and he is breathing uncontrollably fast when a large claw wraps around his shoulder.</p><p>His voice rips from his throat without permission, shattering the icy silence his fear has created. He feels small and helpless and frightened in the all-to-familiar grasp.</p><p>“What- what are you doing?!” </p><p>Shattering the frosty silence of the cave, his voice feels ear-splitting. His undignified cries as he is tossed to the ground only increase the effect; it is raw, high-pitched, and far too honest about how hysterical he feels.</p><p>The shock of hearing himself sound so terror-stricken helps Kallus gather himself enough to regain some measure of control over the way his voice sounds as he makes a scornful remark in the face of mercy. At least, he thinks he’s regained control; it’s so hard to hear over the blood pounding in his ears. He doesn’t even know what he’s saying.</p><p>There.</p><p>The Lasat’s back is turned, and if he moves fast enough he can reach his own bo-rifle where it lies in the snow. At least with a weapon, he won’t be as defenseless. Not this time.</p><p>Kallus grits his teeth and starts to crawl on his stomach. Damn his leg. It’s only a few feet, but hobbled as he is, and with a numbing chill creeping into his body, he’s barely made progress when he sees a large, clawed foot come crushing his faint hope.</p><p>“That’s not happening either.”</p><p>Kallus shivers, and realizes how cold he actually is. As he rolls over to sit up, a pained gasp heaves its way from his injured ribs, and he hears the agonized sound of his voice once again.<br/>
Stars. Control yourself. Kallus allows a moment to reprimand himself before looking up at the hole in the ice created by the escape pod when they came crashing to the surface, the burning surface of Geonosis already dimming above them. </p><p>Another shiver, longer this time. Control. If he focussed, he could at least maintain the Imperial baritone of his normal voice. Just take one thing at a time.</p><p>The longer they spoke, the easier it was to regain control over his initial panic upon awakening in the escape pod. The easier it was to accept that the rebel, Garazeb Orrelios, would not kill him the way Gererra’s mercenary had killed his men.</p><p>The longer they spoke, the deeper the cold sank into his bones.</p><p> </p><p>Contrary to what most beings may think on first impressions, Zeb was extremely perceptive. It was a skill that served him well as Captain of the Honor Guard on Lasan. He was a good judge of character, and well-tuned to emotional undercurrents in tense situations.</p><p>He is not necessarily confused by what he’s seeing in Kallus, but he is a little surprised. It seems his Imperial shell suffered some damage in their crash-landing, and the humanity of him is spilling out over the snow.</p><p>It’s why he lowers his bo-rifle, why he makes the decision not to kill him; not like this. Because this is new, and it’s so different from everything the Ghost has seen of Kallus before, and Zeb has always been more appreciative of life in general since his losses on Lasan. As much as he hates to admit it, that idea applies here and now, even if it’s towards a man who caused him such loss in the first place.</p><p>As he digs in the escape pod for emergency supplies, Zeb considers the exposed fragments of this broken Kallus.</p><p>He is injured, obviously. Zeb knows he launched him hard enough into the controls with his hind legs to make electricity crackle across the panels. Definitely dealing with some rib damage then. He’d only clutched at his leg and howled when they came to, and hadn’t made a move to stand or move on that leg since then. Probably broken, probably his upper leg or knee, judging by the way the agent’s hands kept gravitating towards the injury.</p><p>Zeb has to pause his rummaging around when he hears movement behind him and sees Kallus’ pained effort to regain his weapon. He rolls his eyes a little before quickly putting a stop to the idea.</p><p>Stubborn bastard. But he knew that already. Agent Kallus is nothing if not persistent.</p><p>Returning to his search, he thinks about the way Kallus responded to being pulled free from the pod. That had been new. </p><p>Kallus always had the voice of a typical villain; suave, smooth, collected, and casually cruel in his speech. In contrast, when Zeb was dragging him out, his breath was coming fast, the pitch was higher than he’d ever heard it before, and he sounded completely exposed.</p><p>He sounded terrified.</p><p>Zeb never liked scaring people with his looks alone. He’d always gone out of his way to be extra comforting if he sensed unease over his appearance. Don’t judge a holonovel by the cover, and all that. There was still such a stigma in the galaxy about nonhumans, he didn’t really want to contribute to that negative perception.</p><p>With Imperial troops it was different; they were some of the most responsible for the violence anyways. They’d well-earned whatever vicious behavior he threw their way.</p><p>But.</p><p>But this was the first time Kallus had ever responded to his attacks that way. In his vulnerable state, the messiness hidden behind his emotionless black uniform was bleeding out despite his best efforts to recover it with his usual mannerisms.</p><p>So, Zeb wouldn’t kill him. Not until he’d healed properly, like he promised. Anyways, it seemed like a waste of an evenly-matched opponent.</p><p>Zeb tried to bridge the gap between them with a little teasing humor in the name of survival. Either Kallus never heard of a joke before, or he was too out of it to understand that that was Zeb’s intention. Then the agent tried to convince him that a fate in the hands of the Empire was better than whatever awaited them in this cave. It irked him that Kallus perceived him to be so much less intelligent.</p><p>Sure, the noises in the darkness were ominous, but better to face a fate unknown than certain death.</p><p> </p><p>Kallus’ initial panic has dissolved into a background hum of caution at this point. He believes that the Lasat won’t kill him, at least not right now, but that fact doesn’t mean that he’s out of danger.</p><p>First and foremost, the sounds of whatever they’re sharing this cave with have only become more frequent the longer they’ve stayed. It’s hard to tell for sure because of the way the sounds echo off of the icy walls, but Kallus is sure they’re getting closer.</p><p>Secondly, and perhaps the most deadly upon consideration, is the blasted cold. The emergency heater is barely helping; Kallus hasn’t been able to stop shivering since he was removed from the escape pod. This whole time, the chill has been sinking sharp claws into his flesh, making old scars ache while dulling the sharp pain of his freshly injured leg. All sensation is slowly fading into each other, becoming a numbing, bitter blanket.</p><p>Kallus has rarely been so aware of how fragile his body is. Every small movement cracks the thin but persistent layer of frost that covers him all over, sending small stings of pain along any exposed skin.</p><p>He grit his teeth against the painful tingling in his fingertips, stretching them closer to their shared heater. Between that and the loss of feeling in his toes, things were going downhill as quickly as expected.</p><p>The rebel across from him made a  pleased noise as the transponder buzzed back to life, followed by a disgruntled growl as it fizzed out once again. The distant scratching of claws on ice echoes around them.</p><p>Seemingly unaffected by the cold as of yet, the Lasat’s fingers move with a dexterity that belies their size, examining and adjusting the transponder with varying levels of success. Kallus can’t help a small flesh of jealousy over the small motor control that he’s lost long ago by now.</p><p>With a huff of frustration, he puts down the transponder and mimics Kallus in reaching for warmth. So, not so immune as he appears, Kallus muses to himself.</p><p>Garazeb’s green eyes flick from the heater to Kallus’ trembling hands, his frown deepening as he looks into Kallus’ face.</p><p>“Karabast, Agent, didn’t think humans could get so pale. You just about match the snow.”</p><p>“Generally, we’re not supposed to,” Kallus says, shifting uncomfortably. Not that he’d admit it, but the rebel’s attempts at humor and conversation are almost soothing.They serve as a reminder that at least he isn’t crashed on an inhospitable moon with a broken leg alone.</p><p>Things could always be worse.</p><p>That doesn’t mean he knows how to respond to such an unintentional kindness. After a minute's silence, Garazeb picked up the transponder again. This time, when the device hummed to life again, it stayed.</p><p>The Lasat let out a small, self-satisfied chuckle.</p><p>“There. And I’ve adjusted the frequency, now anyone can find us.”</p><p>Just as things were looking up, the power core of their little heater flickered and died. Kallus felt his heart sink into his boots, and he wrapped his arms around himself as if he could contain his dismay within by doing so.</p><p>It was impossible to keep his anxiety from his voice when Garazeb walked away, and he scolded himself for not remembering his training better. He didn’t need this rebel knowing his weakness, especially when he was physically injured as well.</p><p>Toughen up, ISB-021. Don’t let your survival depend on a traitor to the Empire. If he can betray the ones working to keep the galaxy safe, he can certainly turn on you.</p><p>His train of thought was interrupted, as was the rebuilding of his emotional barriers, when Garazeb tossed him the glowing object with a grumble.</p><p>“Here. Warm yourself up.”</p><p>Kallus felt exposed, soft, vulnerable, in a way he could never remember before. His throat was tight with emotion and bewilderment. What good reason did Garazeb have to keep him comfortable? He could understand being kept alive, out in the open, as bait for whatever lurked in the darkness. He’d accepted that as a likely fate. But now, he was forced to consider and accept the idea that this rebel he’d been hunting actually cared enough to try and keep him comfortable as well.</p><p>Hopeless as that effort may be, it still broke something in Kallus’ chest. He clutched the glowing stone close to his chest, as if to hide the feeling that was starting to creep through his bones as surely as the cold did. Gratitude, and a slowly gnawing doubt in his own convictions.</p><p> His shocked stare tore away from the rebel as a menacing growl echoed around them, and he felt himself babbling his doubts aloud.</p><p>“Do you really think we’ll survive? Whatever that is?”</p><p>“Always so quick to give up hope,” the Lasat teased gently, and Kallus was grateful that he could pretend the red of his cheeks was just from the biting cold.</p><p>Garazeb made the decision to better their chances of rescue by getting the transponder above the thick layer of ice that made up the ceiling of the cave. After several fruitless attempts to climb the smooth walls, Kallus couldn’t help but snort a laugh as he once again scrabbled for purchase on the ice and came crashing down again.</p><p>Garazeb growled in frustration, his temper getting the better of him. He slammed one hand into the other threateningly, muttering “How’d you like a few more broken bones?”</p><p>Kallus’ eyes widened in horror, but not at his threat. Behind Garazeb, looming out of the shadows with a fearsome screech, was an enormous beast. Kallus stumbled backward as Garazeb turned to face the thing for himself.</p><p>“Like this day couldn’t get any better.”</p><p> </p><p>“Karabast.”</p><p>Even standing as close to the edge as he was, it was hard for Kallus to see clearly through the snow and whipping wind. But he could see Garazeb.</p><p>Ears pressed back against his head, green eyes filled with a mixture of fear, anger and resignation, claws digging into the eyes. And Kallus looked at him down the barrel of his own bo-rifle.</p><p>It felt like a turning point. It hardly felt like a choice at all.</p><p>Kallus shifted his aim and fired past Garazeb’s head at the glimpse of sharp jaws in the darkness below. Truth be told, he was as surprised as the rebel to see the shots fired. He hadn’t felt his finger pull the trigger.</p><p>That’s a bad sign.</p><p>With the threat eliminated for the moment, Kallus extended a hand towards the dangling Lasat. The warmth of his much larger hand almost brought tears to Kallus’ eyes. He had to force himself to let go, to try and forget the way Zeb’s warmth had spread even through his armor while he clung to the rebel’s back as they made their escape.</p><p>And wasn’t that just another punch in the gut. Garazeb, risking his own life for the sake of his more than once even in such a short encounter.</p><p>Kallus blinked against the moisture in his eyes, feeling a few tears freeze as they met his cheeks. He thanked the stars that the snowy winds obscured the sight from his survival companion.</p><p>“Better activate the transponder,” he forced through chattering teeth. “It’s a lot colder up here. We won’t last long.”</p><p>I won’t last long.</p><p> </p><p>Kallus looked like he might freeze over if he stopped moving. But the stubborn agent refused all of Zeb’s efforts to help, whether serving as a crutch or just carrying the fool, and Zeb was sorely tempted to throw the agent over his shoulder in order to get them both to shelter faster.</p><p> </p><p>Luckily, it wasn’t an idea he had to consider for long as the shadowy silhouette of a cave emerged in front of them. With an internal sigh of relief, Zeb shouted as much over the wind, pointing it out for Kallus’ less acute vision.</p><p>Finally the two of them stumbled in out of the wind, and Zeb cursed quietly at the sight of the human’s condition.</p><p>Kallus’ exposed hair was frosted white, including his eyebrows and eyelashes. His rosy cheeks were starting to turn white in the middle, an icy pallor that made Zeb far too uncomfortable. He was shivering uncontrollably, even with the meteorite clutched to his chest. He fell to a sitting position with a thump, goraning through gritted teeth before shooting a quite literally icy glare at Zeb.</p><p>That’s just pitiful.</p><p>SInce offering assistance had been met with consistent rebuttal, Zeb made the decision to simply not ask how to help. He wasn’t nearly as cold as Kallus looked, but he could use some shared heat as well. </p><p>So, Zeb walked to where Kallus sat and settled in next to him, starting to wrap an arm around the agent’s shoulders.</p><p>“What- what are you doing?” Kallus’ voice was raised  in pitch again, but shakier than before.</p><p>“S’cold,” Zeb grunted. “We’re trying to keep warm.”</p><p>When Kallus only continued to shiver in response, Zeb sighed. He scooted himself over so that Kallus fit between his legs, and wrapped himself as much as he could around the frosty human.</p><p>It was uncomfortably quiet for a moment, with only the whistling wind to break it. Then Kallus spoke.</p><p>“It wasn’t supposed to be a massacre. On Lasan.” His voice was quiet, but with how close they were to each other, Zeb heard every word clearly. His ears folded backward uncomfortably. What was he thinking?</p><p>“I realized too late that the Empire wanted to make an example. I know I took credit for it before.”</p><p>Zeb shushed him, moving one hand to the back of Kallus’ head. He didn’t know whether it was meant to be a comfort or a threat. He decided not to think about it.</p><p>“What happened on Lasan… it’s over for me. Moved on.” The words came out haltingly, and he felt more than heard the huff of breath Kallus let out in disbelief.</p><p>“It’s Zeb, by the way. My name.”</p><p>“Short for Garazeb. I know.”</p><p> </p><p>In that position, between Zeb’s legs, wrapped in his arms, with his head pressed to the rebel’s chest and the meteorite clutched to his own, Kallus felt the icy cold between his shoulders soften and thaw around the edges. As it did, he came to the realization that he wouldn’t be able to fight Zeb after this. He didn’t want to.</p><p>But what did that mean? What could he possibly do?</p><p>Instead of trying to figure it out, he clutched tighter at the stone and leaned into Zeb’s warmth. </p><p>Plenty of time to figure that out later, if only they could survive.</p>
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